


the fool

by TheEbonHawk



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic II: The Sith Lords
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Character Death, F/M, Implied/Referenced Torture, Injury, basically atton's death scene with my exile
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-14 00:34:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12995943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEbonHawk/pseuds/TheEbonHawk
Summary: Atton knows Sion's killed him. All that matters now is the Exile.





	the fool

When the white-hot, fiery pain of the lightsaber cut through Atton’s arm, the first thing he felt wasn’t fear or even grief. It was failure. He couldn’t protect her like this. Couldn’t help her if he died.

He grabbed the stump of his arm, blinking against the fading of his vision, the lightheadedness of shock beginning to set in. Sion was moving, retreating from his limited sight. “What, you running away? I’m not done with you yet.”

Sion stepped close again. “Nor I you.”

Atton tried to step back, tried to dodge, but the Sith got him. Sion locked his hand around Atton’s throat and lifted him. Atton coughed and choked from the lack of air, but his remaining hand dangled helplessly at his side, his feet hanging useless above the ground.

Force, he’d really done it now.

“I will remake you,” Sion growled, his hand tightening until Atton couldn’t see anything at all. “When I look upon you it shall be like a mirror. Then I will let you die.”

Atton’s ears were ringing as Sion continued to squeeze his throat, and then he was dropped, hit his knees hard and collapsed into the floor. He gasped air back into his lungs, coughing, shaking on the cold stone.

He looked up and saw Sion slip a knife out of his belt. A sharp, thin knife, perfect for hurting but not killing. Not right away.

Atton knew this game. He was just on the losing side, this time.

He made a sound that was part cough, part laugh. “Well, there’s nothing worse you could do to me. Take your time.” Maybe if Meetra survived, and if Sion toyed with him long enough, he’d get to see her again, say goodbye.

He’d do his best to stay alive that long, at least. He would try.

-

Meetra found Atton slumped against the wall just outside the Academy’s core. As she knelt beside him, she could see that he was badly injured; missing half of one arm, holding his bleeding chest, with cuts all over.

He smiled at her, lopsided, his eyes fighting to stay open. He had bruises all over his throat. Cuts on his face that would definitely scar. He looked terrible, but from what she could tell he was just happy to see her. “Hey. Did I do it? Did I save you yet?”

Meetra laughed, her heart dancing with nerves and relief in her chest. “You did it. I’m safe.”

His mouth stretched into a grin, even as he bled through his fingers. He coughed through his half-crushed throat. “Good. Nice to be the hero for once.”

His eyes were almost fully closed now.

Meetra gripped his hand. Her stomach was going cold again. She scooted closer to him, resting her hand on his chest. “Yes, Atton. You’re my hero. Now shut up and let me heal you.”

He sighed, shook his head. Coughed. His breathing was beginning to slow. “Not gonna work. Know you know that. I can see it. In your eyes.”

Her hand was shaking. She did know. She did. She just didn’t want to admit it. It didn’t seem real, couldn’t be fair. She didn’t want to lose anyone else on this planet. “I have to try.”

Her hand clenched on his shirt (there was so much blood, he’d lost way too much, was there any point?) and she closed her eyes, shaking, shaking while he was completely still. She tried to heal him, she tried to concentrate, but she just couldn’t. He was too close to the edge.

There wasn’t any point.

She looked at him, and his eyes were open again. She shook her head, but he didn’t stop smiling.

“S’alright. Was waiting for this.” He took a few deep breaths. It was so hard for him to speak, but he seemed determined not to shut up, even now. “S’not fair to you. Wanted to help.”

“You did.” Meetra rested her head against his, closing her own eyes. There was a lump in her throat now, and it made her voice shaky. “You helped me so much. ” Her voice broke a bit, into a sob. She could feel it, the pain, the life fading from him.

His hand came to cup her shoulder. It was covered in blood, but she didn’t care. “I was tired anyway. Too much death. Lies.”

She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close. Let his head rest on her shoulder, her hand in his hair. His blood was soaking through her robes and probably staining her skin. “I told you, Atton. You’re more than that. You don’t deserve this.”

Maybe if she’d trained him when he’d asked her to, this wouldn’t have happened. He could’ve had a fighting chance. Her chest shook with another sob. She should have protected him.

“This is my fault. I failed you.”

He put his hand on her chest and pushed her away with all his meager strength, only managing to move her back a few inches. “Go. Get out of here. Don’t want you to see me die.”

She shook her head, cradling his face in her hands and pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “Not getting rid of me that easy.” She looked at the deep cuts in his side, the slow rise and fall of his chest as he tried to keep breathing. Force, he was almost gone. “I’m staying with you, sweetheart. It’s the least I could do.”

He sighed. Accepted it. Maybe he wanted it anyway. “Loved you, Meetra. From the first moment I saw you. I tried to make it a joke. Wasn’t funny. I meant every word.”

She kissed him. Her tears fell on his cheeks, but she was trying to hold back the sobbing until he was gone. She didn’t want him to see her die, either. “I loved you too.”

He laughed. “I know.” He held her hand instead of his chest, blood gluing their fingers together. “Space, hurts to laugh.”

His eyes drifted closed. There was a tear in her chest, a slow, agonizing retreat of his soul from hers. He was gone, leaving her hollowed out inside.

Slowly, she made herself let go of him and stand. If she didn’t go now, she knew she wouldn’t go at all. She walked away, leaving the body because she wouldn’t be able to carry it out, leaving the crying for later because if she started now she would collapse and die here.

It was wrong, so wrong to let him die in this place, and to survive yet another casualty she’d caused.

At least he’d be the last life she’d ever end on Malachor.


End file.
